The Storybook Problem
by K. A. Carlyle
Summary: Henry is becoming overly-attached to his book of fairy tales, and Regina intends to do something about it. After all, maybe putting her son in therapy is what's best for him? Set before the beginning of the series. One-shot; pure fluff!


The lock made a loud clicking noise as the door slid open. Regina Mills stepped into the entryway, looking around her at the open ceiling and curving staircase of her home. "Henry?" she called out. Her own voice bounced around in the large room, but other than that, she was greeted by silence.

"Henry..." Regina repeated, beginning to sound slightly frustrated. She rested a hand on the stair railing, placing a foot on the first step. It had been a long day; she didn't want to have to keep calling to her son, when she knew he wouldn't answer. What she really needed was a glass of apple cider and some long-deserved sleep.

As Regina began to climb the curving stairs, she noticed the light coming from underneath the door to Henry's bedroom. Perhaps, she found herself hoping, he would be doing something normal, such as watching TV or listening to music, and he simply hadn't heard her. But she knew, deep down, that that would never happen. Henry wouldn't ever be like the other boys in his grade. His only free time was spent with his nose in _that_ _book_.

"Henry?" Regina called softly, rapping lightly on his door. There was a long pause, in which she could hear the rustling of sheets and the pounding of footsteps.

"Come in," Henry called at last, his voice muffled through the door.

When Regina walked in, she found Henry lying on his bed, holding a book up in front of his face. _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone._ Frowning, she approached him, her eyes narrowing in disbelief.

"Glad to see you're trying something new, for a change."

Henry looked up, forcing a half-smile. "Yeah. Been reading it all afternoon."

Regina raised an eyebrow. Henry might have only been her adoptive son, but she had raised him as her own, and she knew him far better, at this point, than his birthmother ever could.

And she knew when he was lying.

"Where is it, Henry?" she demanded, rolling her eyes almost unconsciously.

Henry's eyes rounded in staged innocence. "Where's what?"

"The book."

"Which book?"

Regina sighed, walking over to Henry to stand imposingly over him. "You know "which book." The book of fairy tales that you can't go anywhere without."

"Oh. Uh...I think it's in my backpack."

Regina still did not believe him; she sat down on the side of his bed so she could stare him in the eyes. He had to know she wasn't joking.

...which was when she found the book.

As she sat down, the covers on the bed shifted, moving to reveal the brown corner of an ancient book beneath Henry's pillow. Regina's eyebrows slanted downwards in disappointment.

"You know it's more than a book..." Henry began, for what seemed like the millionth time. He dropped _Harry Potter_, ignoring the sound of crunching paper as it slid onto the floor, and grabbed the book underneath his pillow. He slammed it down in front of him, where Regina could see it clearly. Across the front cover, the words "Once Upon a Time" were etched in flowing gold manuscript.

"They're just stories, Henry," Regina insisted. Her voice was cold and firm; she had had enough of this. She would have to get help if this continued.

"My _real _mom would believe me."

Regina's eyes widened in shock. "Excuse me?"

"I said, my _real _mom would believe me."

Regina reached out to place a hand on Henry's shoulder, meeting his eyes darkly. "I _am_ your mom, Henry."

Henry shook his head fiercely, leaning away from Regina. "You're not my mom," he insisted. "You never were my mom. You _never _will be. You...you're the evil queen."

Her expression hardened. _Not this again_.

Regina clasped her hands in her lap, taking a long breath. "Henry..." she began patiently, though a hint of disappointment began to creep into her voice.

"No! You don't understand," Henry insisted, jumping to his feet. "You don't understand any of it! Or maybe you do, but you just don't want me to know it. You say you're only looking out for me, because you love me, but you can't! Because you're always lying. But you'll see; good will win! Good _always_ wins."

"Henry!" Regina exclaimed, also standing. His audacity was beginning to annoy her. But more than that; she was worried. This was beginning to border the line into obsessive behavior. She couldn't have her son continue this way.

"Just leave me alone! If you _really_ loved me, you'd actually care about this!" Henry reached out to snatch up his book, slamming it closed. He wrapped his arms protectively around it, hugging it tightly to his chest.

"Henry," Regina repeated firmly. She wished she could say something more intelligent, rather than just repeating the same word.

"Leave me _alone_," he echoed.

Regina reached for her cell phone with one manicured hand, running her fingers over the keys. "You remember Doctor Hopper, don't you, Henry?" she asked. Her voice carried a bittersweet tone that made Henry freeze in fear.

"Good." She answered her own question. "Because the two of you are going to be spending a lot of quality time together, from now on." At that moment, she was unable to contain the pleasurable smirk that spread the length of her face. In a way, she felt like she was serving some kind of well-deserved justice. "The two of you can talk about that book of yours all you want."

Henry scowled, his young eyes darkening. "And you wonder _why_ I think you're the evil queen," he muttered.

Regina lifter her cell phone to her ear, ignoring his comment. "You know I hate being the bad guy."

But as she walked out, thinking about how much she was strangely enjoying this, she wondered if she really meant that at all.


End file.
